


Plead the Cause of the Poor and the Needy (Proverbs 31:9)

by Orithain, Rina9294



Series: The Right Answer [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Michael as Dean | Dean as Michael, but the pairing really is Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orithain/pseuds/Orithain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina9294/pseuds/Rina9294
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean said yes, but Michael was nothing like anyone expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plead the Cause of the Poor and the Needy (Proverbs 31:9)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in _Send Me an Angel_ by Ashton Press, May 2011, and still available for purchase.  
>  Set after 5x17 "99 Problems", which made us wonder. This is a very different Michael from the one in later episodes of the show, none of which happened in this universe, at least not quite as aired.

Michael remembered watching Castiel for a short time one day while the other angel sat on a park bench and observed human children playing. Unlike Uriel, Michael had understood Castiel’s fascination with the mortal race, and in truth, he shared it to a certain degree. In the bright sunlight, the youngsters looked almost angelic, occasionally haloed by the light, almost as if intentionally.

But Michael of all beings knew that there was no one planning and hadn’t been for a long time, even as angels measured it. He sat on another bench in another park in another town, and he understood. He understood why Castiel tried so hard, why Dean had fought so long, and more importantly why Dean Winchester had ultimately said yes. Long, jean-clad legs stretched out before him, and he rested leather-encased arms along the top of the bench as he considered his next action. Eventually, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“I’m at the Ethan Allen Memorial Park in Granley, Vermont.”

Silence greeted those words, then there was a faint rustling as Castiel appeared beside him, his face haggard and his jaw clenched in anger. “What do you want, Michael?” he grated, long since beyond the good little soldier he had been for all of his existence.

Michael turned his head, regarding the other angel with curiosity. “Did you really believe there was any other way for this to play out, Cas? If Dean had not finally agreed, there would have been no hope. Now he has, and now there’s a chance that he and some of humanity may survive the coming days. I thought you might like to help achieve that outcome.”

“What hope is there when God doesn’t care? And do not call me Cas,” the dark-haired angel snapped, looking away from Michael to the playground before them.

“The hope is that I have my vessel now, _Castiel_ , and our great adversary does not, and I _can_ defeat him. Unlike Zachariah and the others, I’m not fighting this battle in hopes of ridding us of both demons and humans. I’m doing it to fight evil and to _save_ humanity.”

“And when you are through? When the battle is over and you have gone, he will be a drooling mess. You may not think it now, but what is to come will do that to him; I know,” Castiel’s hands splayed on his thighs then clenched into fists, “because I have done the same thing to my vessel.”

“Your vessel is not Dean Winchester,” Michael stated with absolute certainty. “Anyone else could not survive other than in that way, but he can. As Sam could survive our brother were it not for the horror of what he would do. It is true that only certain bloodlines can host us at all, such as your host and his child, but even among those, the children of John Winchester and Mary Campbell are unique.”

“Dean is my friend,” Castiel said quietly as he still stared out at the children at play.

“Yes, he is.” Michael was silent for a moment, seeming to consider the matter. “He cares for you as he has cared for no other but his brother.”

Castiel twisted to look at him at that, wincing when he saw the strange calmness Michael exuded on Dean’s face. “Can you control them?” he asked bluntly.

“I am Michael.”

“And they do not care whom they destroy in their battle against Lucifer’s minions. Zachariah wants Armageddon, and he will not stop until he has it!”

“Castiel, I destroyed Anafiel with a single touch, and I sent Uriel away with a word. Zachariah and his compatriots will not be an issue. I _am_ God’s weapon, and none can stand against me.”

“You are full of shit.”

“Dean says you should stop using his lines.”

“Dean should tell me that himself.”

Michael sighed.

“Look, Cas, I know you think this was a mistake, but I thought about it for months before I decided to go ahead and do it,” Dean said. “It’s the only hope we have. If I didn’t do this, well, I’ve seen what happens, and it doesn’t turn out well for either of us, never mind the whole rest of the freaking world.”

Castiel swallowed, his throat working convulsively before he took a deep breath. “And you believe this will cause a better ending? Because I do not.”

“You think the world in ruins and the Croatoan virus decimating what’s left of humanity is better? Michael says I won’t be a vegetable, and I think he’s too much of an ass to lie.”

“That is only if Sam says yes to Lucifer,” Castiel pointed out. “He has not.”

“And you can’t think of any reason he would? I can, Cas. And frankly, that just got less likely with me saying yes to Michael. Now, he has to think if he says yes, one of us will die. He’s going to think of that. Besides, even without him, Lucifer can use another vessel, like he’s doing now. It’s not ideal, but it works in the short term, and he can still attack.”

“As always, no one is going to change your mind, even if wasn’t too late to do so,” Castiel sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and transferring his attention to the playground again.

Dean watched him for a moment. “Cas, I had to do it, and I intend to survive this.”

“I would like to speak to Michael again.”

Dean looked at him for a long moment before his posture changed slightly. “I am here.”

“If we survive this and Dean does not, I will come for you.”

Michael regarded him serenely. “I will keep that in mind. Does this mean you are going to assist me?”

“What is it that you wish for me to do?”

***

“Zachariah!” Michael’s voice boomed, audible throughout the universe if one happened to be an angel.

The angel in the older man’s body appeared, kneeling though his bowed head hid a wide grin. “Michael. We have been waiting for your call.”

Michael stared down at him. “Waiting. Is that what you call what you’ve been doing? It stops now, Zachariah. I walk this plane now, and _I_ will deal with any interference. In case that’s not clear enough for you, hands off the Winchesters and Castiel, or I will destroy you.”

Zachariah looked up at him at that, his eyes widening in surprise. “We have merely been trying to prepare for the great battle, one which we could not win without your presence on the mortal plane,” he protested.

Michael actually snorted. “You’ve been trying to twist events to what you think should happen. You have no idea what that really is, nor do you know God’s original plan or even mine. Interfere again and I will destroy you as I destroyed Anafiel.”

Zachariah swallowed though a hard light shone in his eyes. “As you wish.”

Staring down at him, Michael warned, “Do not test me, Zachariah. Dean is already urging me to be rid of you before you can cause more difficulties. You don’t want me to decide he’s right.”

“Just do not let him influence you too much.”

“You had opportunities to speak to him; you should have taken them.”

Zachariah snorted quietly, making clear his thoughts on the usefulness of Dean Winchester aside from being Michael’s chosen vessel.

Michael shook his head. “Go away, Zachariah. You make me tired.”

“As you wish, Michael.” The other angel’s eyes narrowed before he vanished, leaving Michael alone.

***

“Hi, Bobby.”

“What the hell do you want, _Michael_?” Bobby growled, wheeling his chair back away from the door as he glowered at the archangel.

Rather than answering verbally, Michael touched Bobby’s forehead with two fingertips.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” Bobby demanded. “I ain’t here for yer pokin’ pleasure.”

Michael regarded him wryly. “You’re not my type. Now why don’t you get up and offer me a drink?”

“Oh, that’s damn funny, ain’t it. Show up here in that boy’s body, and make fun of the cripple. Why don’t you get yer ass out there and kill Lucifer so the world is safe?”

Sighing, Michael pointed out, “Did you not ask Castiel to heal you? Am I not an angel? Get out of that chair!”

Bobby stared up at the stranger looking at him from Dean’s eyes before slowly shifting his feet so that they were on the floor, his own eyes widening as he was able to move without dragging his legs. Gripping the arms of the chair, he slowly stood, wavering as he regained his balance.

“So what are you chargin’ me fer that?” he finally asked, his voice suspiciously thick.

“It is no more than you deserved. You were injured fighting for good. And Dean was very emphatic,” Michael added wryly.

“Dean can be that way,” Bobby allowed, watching the angel closely. “You want that drink?”

“That would be good,” Michael agreed, finally stepping all the way inside the house.

“You want what Dean likes?” Bobby asked, waving Michael ahead of him toward the kitchen.

“I still have the same taste buds,” Michael said, “so yes.”

Still eyeing him closely, Bobby went to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, handing it over and taking one for himself. “So why are you here rather than doin’ what yer supposed to be doin’?”

“Because you were unfinished business that needed to be dealt with while I had the time. And I need to make some plans before I go after my brother and start our battle.”

“I thought you angels didn’t care about anything except the apocalypse,” Bobby said before he swallowed down his beer in one long gulp.

“You shouldn’t judge us all by some of my brethren.” Michael took a long swallow of his beer. “I intend for humanity to live.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I have a hard time believin’ you.”

Michael shrugged, as Dean would have in the same situation. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“You been to talk to Sam yet?”

“No. It would serve no purpose and would hurt both Dean and Sam.” Michael’s words and expression were calm, but he took another long swallow of beer.

“So leavin’ that boy alone is _helpin’_ him?” Bobby asked incredulously.

“Of course not,” Michael replied, sounding exasperated. “But it’s not hurting him, and I’m not sure the same can be said of seeing him.”

“So yer jes’ poppin’ around, payin’ off debts since yer Father don’t care?” As he spoke, Bobby pulled two more beers out of the refrigerator, setting one on the counter and opening the other.

“Can you think of a better use of my time? I’ll have to face my brother soon, but the longer I wait, the more his host fails with him inside. Which is... unfortunate for the host, but he was doomed from the moment he accepted Lucifer. And the weaker he is, the better it will be for everyone. Our battle will be destructive, so the shorter the better for humanity’s sake.”

“You do realize the longer you take, the more folks die,” Bobby said flatly, “and some of ‘em are innocents.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Michael snapped, looking up to meet Bobby’s gaze angrily. “But I don’t get to save one and not think about the consequences! For now, fewer people will die by delaying than by facing my brother at his current strength.”

“Seems like you angels is just always full of excuses,” Bobby muttered into his beer.

“I suppose it _would_ seem that way to you,” Michael mused, absently picking at the label on the beer bottle. “You have not had especially fortunate encounters with my kind.”

“Name someone who has.”

Michael smiled wryly. “I suppose you want modern examples? Since I think Mary, she you call the Madonna, found the experience positive overall.”

“Pompous ass,” Bobby growled.

“I see where Dean learned it from.”

“Learned what?”

“Learned everything, it seems, but particularly the attitude.”

“Learned it from his father, you mean.”

“He seems very like you to me.”

Bobby’s jaw worked beneath his graying beard, and he looked away. “I hope it don’t get him killed.”

“I will do everything in my considerable power to prevent that from happening.”

“You make sure you do that.”

“It begins to seem that if I do not, there will be a line forming to end me,” Michael observed dryly.

“Who else said it?” Bobby asked after a moment.

“Castiel.” Michael still managed not to laugh.

“Yeah, I can tell yer quakin’ in yer boots about both of us,” Bobby growled, turning away from the angel and walking back out into the book-strewn living room.

Michael turned to watch him. “I am... impressed that Dean’s friends value him highly enough to threaten _me_.”

“Jes’ try to remember it.”

Michael chuckled. “I’m sure Dean will remind me if I’m ever in danger of forgetting.”

“I hope so,” Bobby said seriously.

***

“Hello, Castiel.” Michael sat down on the bar stool next to Castiel and surveyed the line of empty shot glasses in front of him. “I thought you preferred drinking liquor stores to this?”

“I have decided that is not good for the owner’s livelihood,” Castiel muttered in answer.

“Ah. But you would have to drink several bottles’ worth this way to feel any affect,” Michael pointed out.

“Perhaps I am helping the local economy.”

“I was not aware that you were gainfully employed to earn a salary.”

“Obviously not,” Castiel answered bitterly.

“Less stimulating to the economy then.” Michael reached over to take the shot that was in front of Castiel and tossed it back.

“I will pay for what _I_ drank.”

Michael laughed and threw a ten on the bar. “Happy now?”

Castiel turned in his seat to regard the archangel seriously. “I have not been happy for some time.”

“And I am sorry for that, little brother. Hopefully that will change when this is all over.”

Castiel picked up and downed the last of his shots. “I do not believe that will be so.”

“As I told Bobby, the proof will be in the reality.” Michael observed him in silence for a short time. “I cannot decide if it would make things better or worse to speak to Sam. You have spent more time with him. What do you think?”

“I think he is frantic with worry over his brother’s fate and concern about his own strength.”

Michael nodded slowly. “So I should speak to him, even if he will whine and curse me.” After a moment he added, “Now _I_ feel the desire to drink a liquor store.”

A strangled combination of a cough and laugh greeted that response. “Only if you pay for it.”

“I’ll wait until after I speak to Sam. I’m sure I’ll want it more then.”

“I am sure that Dean could tell you of the location of many of them.”

Michael chuckled briefly. “Yes, I believe he knows at least one in every town he’s ever been in.”

“Considering the life he has led, it is understandable.”

“Yes,” Michael replied simply. “I do not intend to add to his burdens. If I survive—and I do intend to—so will he.”

“What you did for Bobby Singer was a kindness,” Castiel said abruptly.

“You would have done the same had you been able. It was no more than he deserved for all he has sacrificed.”

“Not many would think that; in fact, most would have thought it beneath them.”

“Do not judge me by Zachariah,” Michael said sharply. “Some of our brethren may have forgotten what we are supposed to be; I have not.”

“And will you remind them?”

Michael’s smile was razor-edged. “I have already begun.”

Castiel nodded slowly at that. “I am pleased to hear it.”

“You will not have to worry about them attacking you again.”

“I am less worried for myself than humanity.”

Michael nodded. “As it should be. Zachariah could learn much from you. And my plans include saving humanity.”

“I fear that any lessons I taught Zachariah would not be pleasant ones,” Castiel admitted.

“And though I should not admit it, I would enjoy seeing him learn them.”

Castiel’s smile was fleeting, but it was a change of expression.

“Perhaps that is something we can consider when we have a little time.”

“You intend to leave him here on Earth?”

Michael looked appalled by the thought. “No, I think that would be a recipe for disaster. But will you not ever return to Heaven? Many of us choose to go back and forth.”

“I am sundered from Heaven; I cannot return.”

“That need not be a permanent situation, though it is not something I can change immediately.”

“It’s good of you to be honest,” Castiel murmured. “Though I do know that God is the only One Who can restore me, and even then I do not want to go back to what I was, to blind, mindless obedience with no hope for anything else.”

Michael smiled briefly. “No one can unlearn anything, not even angels. You could never again be a simple soldier, Castiel; do not fear it.”

“I am glad of that.” The bartender drifted over, looking inquiringly at the empty glasses, and Castiel shook his head. “I require no more this evening.”

“Then shall we go see Sam?”

“We?” Castiel frowned.

“I don’t know where he is,” Michael pointed out.

“I know where he was; we could begin there. I would suggest that I be allowed to speak with him first, unless Dean disagrees?”

“He says that he would prefer that I not have to heal his broken nose, so that would be best.”

Castiel sighed but nodded, placed his hand on Michael’s arm, his fingers closing on the weathered leather of his jacket before they both vanished, reappearing outside of a weathered motel that had faded pink flamingos cemented next to each door.

“Wait out here and I will speak to him,” he ordered, pointing to the shadows by the office and walking toward room number six where he knocked on the door.

Sam opened the door, his eyebrows rising at the sight of Castiel. “Since when do you knock?”

“Since I was not sure if you were still in the room or not,” Castiel pointed out. “I did not think it would be wise to simply walk in on other people.”

“Point,” Sam agreed, stepping back to allow Castiel into the room. “So what’s up?”

“Michael is here to see you.”

“Fuck ‘im,” Sam snarled. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“I thought you would say as much,” Castiel sighed, noting the mostly empty bottle on the table by the bed. “But I would not have brought him here if I did not think it necessary.”

“What the hell does he want from me? He’s got his vessel; shouldn’t he be off fighting Lucifer?” Sam snapped as he reached for the bottle only to have Castiel pull it out of his reach.

“Dean is alive inside him,” he said bluntly. “Talk to him, Sam.”

“Whatthefuckever.”

Castiel’s open palm cracked against Sam’s cheek. “If I can stand to be in the presence of my brother, you can do the same,” he grated.

Sam staggered back, one hand pressed to his stinging cheek, and stared at Castiel in shock. Almost anyone else, he would have taken a swing at, but even as drunk as he was and with Castiel’s powers reduced, Sam wasn’t crazy enough to try it. “I, uh, okay.”

“Good answer,” Castiel said, gazing at him through narrowed eyes before he turned back to the still open door and waved a hand to call Michael over.

A moment later, Michael stepped inside, only to stop abruptly, his eyebrows rising at the scene that met his eyes. “Did I miss a demon attack?”

Castiel remained silent, and Sam finally shook his head. “No, no attack.”

Deciding to ignore it, Michael stated calmly, “Everyone seems to think that I should give you the opportunity to tell Dean what you think.”

“He knows what I think; I want to know what you’re going to do to him,” Sam said, glaring at the angel who wore his brother’s body.

“I don’t intend to do anything _to_ Dean,” Michael corrected. “I plan to defeat Lucifer with his assistance.”

“I’ve seen how most of you angels handle our ‘assistance,’ ” Sam muttered.

“Did no one ever teach you not to generalize?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

Castiel sighed from where he leaned against the wall.

“I don’t see why Bobby thought this would be of any benefit,” Michael muttered, turning to pace the room restlessly, much as Dean would have done.

“Me either,” Sam said sulkily.

“You said you wanted to do what you could to stop this,” Castiel said, looking at Sam. “That means dealing with Michael.”

“And _not_ with Lucifer,” Michael added emphatically.

“What do you think I’ve been fighting to keep from doing!” Sam exclaimed.

“Just making sure. And don’t yell at me. _I_ don’t call you an abomination,” Michael ended wryly.

“Yeah, well, I know Cas, and I don’t know you,” Sam pointed out.

Michael stared at him. “You’re nuts.”

“And you sound too much like Dean, but you aren’t. He chose his path, chose you, so let me deal with this on my own.”

“Stop being a dick, Sammy,” Dean growled. “You think this was my first choice? But hey, at least I went with an angel, not a demon.”

Sam looked as if he’d been slapped again at that remark, and Castiel sighed, trying to recall just why he had agreed to this madness.

“Arguing is not going to help our cause,” he finally said, breaking the staring match between the brothers. “Sam, stop acting persecuted; Dean—and Michael—stop acting holier than thou. We have all made mistakes, and we all regret them, but we need to put them behind us.”

Dean looked like he wanted to say something else, but then his posture changed, and Michael nodded abruptly. “As you say, brother. We have more important matters to deal with.”

“So just what _are_ you doing?” Sam finally asked, watching Michael narrowly. “Cas said you have to wait for Lucifer’s vessel to weaken before taking him on; how long is that going to take?”

Michael shrugged. “It’s not an exact process, but I plan to confront him within the month. It’s time to put an end to this, one way or another.”

“One way or the other? I thought you guys were sure you’d win once you took Dean over.”

“Nothing is ever certain. If it were, my brother would never have rebelled, and we would not have to do this at all. But I believe I will win, and then perhaps all of this will be over once and for all.”

“You know, that’s the most honest thing an angel’s ever told me,” Sam observed, “except for Cas calling me an abomination, that is.”

“Castiel is...uniquely blunt,” Michael agreed with a faint smile.

“You can say that again,” Sam agreed while Castiel looked as if he was contemplating grabbing and downing what remained of Sam’s alcohol.

Michael finally sat down on one of the beds, looking from Sam to Castiel. “You’re a bit of a bad influence on him... as well as being a good influence.”

“And why do you say that?”

“You help him learn about humanity... but alcoholism isn’t really one of the better hobbies to explore.”

“I was quite enjoying it,” Castiel pointed out.

“You’re lucky you still can heal your own liver,” Sam muttered, making Michael chuckle.

“There are much more interesting vices to explore if that’s what you want to do.”

Castiel looked over at Michael at that, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I believe that you have been listening to Dean too much.”

“Aren’t you supposed to count vices as sins?” Sam added.

“Do you really think that overeating is worse than pedophilia?” Michael asked. “Trust me, vices are just that and nothing more. And some of them are fun... when you don’t freak the hooker out,” he added with a wry glance at Castiel, who simply stared at him while Sam gasped like a fish out of water.

“You’re a hell of a lot different from any angel I’ve ever met; is that Dean or is that you?”

“You haven’t met many archangels,” Michael pointed out. “Then again, you know Gabriel, so you shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“We met Raphael,” Sam pointed out. “He was a prick. Gabriel is a chicken-shit.”

“Raphael hasn’t spent nearly enough time outside of Heaven,” Michael replied. “And Gabriel... has some issues.”

Sam snorted.

“Perhaps you should visit him next,” Castiel said dryly.

“Gabriel?” Michael shook his head. “I hope he’ll join me now that I’m here, but trying to force him to do something against his will is like herding cats.”

“Or Winchesters.”

“Listening here,” Sam commented, “and I’m pretty sure Dean is too.”

“He’s very profane,” Michael observed, starting to laugh as he swung his legs up onto the bed and piled the pillows behind his back, Sam staring at him for a long moment before shaking his head.

“This is so weird,” he muttered before dropping to the other bed, Castiel dragging over one of the orange chairs to sit where he could watch both of them.

“Dean agrees,” Michael informed him. “And he wants a beer. Does he ever not want a beer?”

“There are times when he wants sex,” Castiel pointed out.

“ _And_ beer,” Sam put in. “Or whiskey. He’ll take either.”

“I noticed,” Michael said dryly. “He’s a poster child for the seven deadly sins, which fortunately aren’t.”

“Tell that to the people who’ve been killed over them,” Sam murmured.

“People kill each other over everything and nothing,” Michael replied.

“As they have done for millennia,” Castiel added. “The wise learn from what happens.”

“And the foolish... perish.” Michael frowned. “As they perished during the flood,” he added slowly.

“Yeah, they did,” Sam said. “Everyone knows that. So?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Michael.

“So perhaps all that has happened is still going according to His plan. That may be why He is not concerned.”

“Are you saying that he’s testing you _angels_?” Sam asked, his voice rising.

“The world is overpopulated, and many are dying. Many angels have strayed from His path, and many of them have died as well. I think that He may be testing all of us.”

“I would rather it be that than the fact that He no longer cares for humanity,” Castiel said seriously.

“I’m not sure that I find the idea of another cataclysm comforting,” Sam muttered.

Michael looked from one to the other. “This sounds like a lose-lose situation.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps _you_ should talk to Him, Michael, because He does not seem to listen to anyone else in this world.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked from one angel to the other.

“I would if I could, Castiel, but it has been a very long time since He has spoken to me. Joshua is truly the only one of us to whom He still speaks. I can only pray that will change once we survive the apocalypse.”

“I have the feeling that we’ll be finding out if we survive or not all too soon,” Sam murmured.

“I will do my best to save you too, Sam,” Michael said softly.

“Thanks. You guys mind taking off?” Sam asked. “I’d like to be alone right now.”

“You will let me know if you leave?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not going to go off to become Lucifer-bait,” Sam said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then it seems it’s time for me to depart,” Michael said, glancing at Castiel.

“Do not drink any more, Sam,” Castiel ordered before he vanished, knowing that Michael could and would find him if he wanted to, “it makes you morose.”

“It makes you morose as well, Castiel,” Michael observed, appearing next to the other angel almost instantly.

“And?”

“You have had an opportunity granted to no other without Falling. Perhaps you should think about that.”

“I don’t need a lesson, Michael.”

“If Dean is to be believed, you need a kick in the pants.”

“From you?” Now Castiel sounded amused.

“He’s not crazy enough to try it himself. He seems to have grasped the idea that humans lose in physical fights against angels.”

“But it hasn’t stopped him from fighting.”

“I truly do not believe that there is anything in Creation that could do that.”

Castiel nodded and looked out at the darkened ocean crashing against the rocks at the base of the cliff they stood on.

Michael watched him for a time, the green eyes unreadable as the angel remained inhumanly still. “Had you known that you would be barred from Heaven, would you have done anything differently?”

“No.” The answer was quiet but immediate though the tightening of the dark-haired angel’s features spoke of his inner battle.

“Take comfort in that. Many waste their lives wishing for the ability to go back and change their choices, but you know that you have done what you could, what you should.” Michael’s gaze finally left Castiel and settled on the horizon, or perhaps beyond.

“Given the circumstances, it is cold comfort; perhaps it will mean more once this is over.”

“I hope so,” Michael said softly, turning to face Castiel, who looked over, eyeing him closely.

“As do I.”

“You sound less than certain of the possibility.”

“I know what I have done, and what I will do to try to rectify the situation.”

Michael regarded him curiously. “Rectify what situation?”

“I have a part in Lucifer’s release.”

“Zachariah was mistaken in the way he dealt with the Winchesters.”

“I was a part of those dealings,” Castiel reminded him.

“You didn’t know any better yet; you were following orders. And when you realized how wrong-headed he was, you intervened. With your help, Dean came very close to preventing Sam from breaking the final seal.”

“If I had not released Sam, he would not have broken the seal.”

“As I recall, you were ordered to do so.”

“That does not make it right.”

“No, it doesn’t. But the real question is, if you had to do it again, would you follow those orders now?”

Castiel sighed, the sound almost lost in the crashing of the waves. “No, but that does not change my actions.”

“Of course not, but you learned from your mistake. That’s more than Zachariah can say.”

“I would like it if Zachariah had little to say for the rest of time.”

Michael chuckled. “As would I. Perhaps we can see if there’s some way to accomplish that once we’ve dealt with the current crisis.”

Castiel’s mouth curved into a seldom-seen smile at that. “I would like that.”

“It’s a deal then.” Michael extended his hand toward Castiel to shake, the other angel staring at it before slowly clasping it with his.

“A deal.”

Michael grinned. “Think of it as a reward for a job well done.”

“It’s a shame the reward could not come now.”

“I’m keeping an eye on him. I think it likely he will attempt to undermine my attempts to reduce the carnage. And then we can act.”

“It’s fortunate that you inhabit a body that is invisible to angels,” Castiel observed wryly.

“For which Dean and I both thank you.” Michael’s slow smile, while warm to Castiel, boded ill for Zachariah.

“Remember that you said _we_ can act,” Castiel reminded him.

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you the pleasure,” Michael chuckled. “Dean thinks he suffered the most, but you’ve had to deal with Zachariah longer.”

“He hurt my friends.”

“And I swear, when the time comes, you will be there and will have the opportunity to balance the scales.”

“While I hope that is so, don’t promise things that you cannot guarantee will be fact,” Castiel reminded him, slowly pulling his hand back from the other angel’s.

“If it is within my power and we both survive, it will be fact.”

Castiel’s expression hardened into a thin smile. “Yes, it will; and this gives me another goal to strive for.”

“See, I’m not such a bad guy after all.”

“I never believed that. You were our general; I didn’t know more than that.”

“I can guarantee you that Dean had a much stronger opinion.”

“But still he agreed to be your vessel,” Castiel pointed out.

“Despite his attempts to appear otherwise, Dean is very pragmatic. When his options narrowed to one bad—as he thought—and one unconscionable, as far as he was concerned, there was no choice at all.”

“Dean wants to save everyone in his care,” Castiel pointed out. “It is something I admire about him.”

“It is an admirable trait—if, as he would say, crazy-making when he considers the whole world to be in his care.”

Castiel chuckled rustily at that. “How loud is his cursing?”

“I don’t think humanity has invented a word sufficiently descriptive,” Michael replied wryly.

“Though that description is the purest essence of Dean.”

“You know him well.”

Castiel looked away again. “I feel I know him better than those I shared a garrison with since Creation.”

“He is a powerful personality. Everyone who meets him seems to either love or hate him... or sometimes both.”

“Something I am well aware of—at times to my chagrin.”

Michael chuckled. “Be grateful you don’t have him in your head.”

“I fear I would be deafened by the cursing.”

“It is a reasonable fear.” Michael nodded sagely.

The two angels stood watching the darkened ocean for a time before Castiel spoke again. “I should return to Sam; it is not good to leave him alone for long.”

“He is fortunate to have your friendship.” The soft flutter of wings announced Castiel’s departure, but Michael remained for a time, gazing out over the water and pondering the imponderable.

***

“It has been a long time, brother.” Michael regarded Gabriel unsmilingly, no hint in his expression of what he was thinking.

“Michael, how good to see you.” Gabriel’s sneer said he felt anything but that. “And you dressed up in your Dean suit too; you didn’t have to go to all that trouble for little old me.”

“Going to run and hide again?” Michael asked coolly.

“What’s my other choice, bending over and kissing my ass good-bye while you and Luci beat each other and the world to hell and back?”

“You could try something really novel and step up and help,” Michael retorted, anger beginning to seep into his voice.

“Now, now, that’s not asking very nicely,” Gabriel sing-songed. “Go track down Rafe; I’m sure he’d be glad to kick some demon ass for you.”

“Raphael concerns me,” Michael admitted. “He has been too much in favor of Zachariah’s plans.”

“Now there’s a guy with a stick up his ass,” Gabriel mused. “Sort of funny, though, I would have thought you’d be toeing the line as well.”

Michael gave him a cold smile. “I wonder how many other things you’ve been wrong about.”

Gabriel snorted out a laugh, and suddenly a bottle of beer filled his empty hand. “Probably a lot more than you’ve been, I’m sure,” he said, toasting Michael with his drink.

“So why not try something new?” Michael suggested just before stealing Gabriel’s beer and taking a long drink, causing Gabriel to pout and create another beer for himself.

“You haven’t changed, Michael. Still think you know better than everyone. You bucking for Dad’s job now that He’s gone off the radar?”

“God forbid,” Michael exclaimed fervently. “No, I’m best as His sword... even against other angels,” he added, his eyes narrowing.

“Ahh, now come the threats, and they wonder why I left home when I could.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Who then? That cute little Castiel? What have you done with him anyway, left him with Sam or taken him out of the picture entirely?”

“Of course not Castiel, he’s the only angel I can be sure will do the right thing,” Michael retorted. “No, I was thinking of Zachariah and his ilk, possibly including Raphael. And as for Castiel, he’s mostly watching over Sam, though I doubt he spends 24/7 with the younger Winchester.”

Gabriel’s mouth twitched. “Interesting. You never cared about the rank and file before other than sending them out to get slaughtered.

“You ever see that movie _Legion_?” he rattled on. “Dogs of Heaven, that’s what they called them, and it didn’t hurt that they had good looking actors play us both.”

Michael stared at him.

Finally he said, “You go to movies about angels?” He shook his head. “Why am I even surprised?” He smirked suddenly. “You might want to remember how it ended.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose, then he snorted. “And another threat. You know, Mikey, you’re sort of boring; I had hoped being in Dean would liven you up some.”

“You’re threat-obsessed. Although I suppose I didn’t specify which part I was talking about this time. I _meant_ the part about me being the one to give Him what He _needs_ , you idiot.”

“You know, that sounds vaguely sexual, and I really don’t need to think of you and Him in that manner. If you’re that hard up, I could always offer some entertainment; I know Dean enjoyed this one.” With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel changed their reality so that they were in a club with half-dressed dancers gyrating on the stage in front of them.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Thank God Dean wasn’t _your_ vessel; I don’t think the world could have survived it.” But he sat down and watched the dancers, knowing that Dean did, in fact, enjoy them.

Gabriel, in turn, watched him, his expression slowly folding into one of confusion. “I can’t figure you out, brother. Last time I saw you, you were all toe the line and smite anyone who gets in your way; what is going on with you?”

“Back then, that was what our Father needed from me. Now, He is... away, and it is time to show Zachariah and Raphael that humanity is not to be toyed with. I am God’s Sword, and I will do His will. And in the absence of clear orders, I will protect humanity and put an end to this fight once and for all.”

“Ooo, stop, you’re making me all tingly; much more and I may jump you,” Gabriel said, giving an exaggerated shiver.

“Now for that, I might actually smite you.”

“You want one of them instead?” Gabriel asked, waving toward the stage and watching his brother closely.

“They’re more Dean’s taste than mine,” Michael replied, making a conscious effort to keep his mind blank, though Dean’s mental snickers told him he was less than successful.

“Ahh, so you admit that you have a preference,” Gabriel mused, leaning closer. “Tell Gabriel all, brother dear; I won’t blab a word to anyone.”

Michael snorted. “Do you honestly think I don’t know about your antics as the Trickster, Gabe? You’re not exactly the most believable individual around.”

“So who would believe me if I did tell?” Gabriel exclaimed triumphantly.

“I’m not ready to tell myself yet,” Michael said very quietly, giving Gabriel a sidelong glance that caused the other archangel’s grin to turn musing.

“Never mind what I said about you being boring, Mikey; this is actually interesting.”

“I’m so glad to provide entertainment for you.”

“So you should be,” Gabriel nodded. “Hrmm... who could it be... No! Michael, you’re lusting after your own vessel?! Though I can see why; he is hot in that scruffy, damn-the-man-has-to-be-good-in-bed way.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “And just how exactly would that work, other than masturbation? You really are an idiot, Gabriel. I should introduce Bobby to you, under my protection.”

“Hey, masturbation can be fun,” Gabriel protested, full of wide-eyed innocence, “and how am I to know what it’s like to have a vessel; I made this body.”

“Dean wants to know if you own a mirror.”

“Why? I don’t have to look at myself; besides, too much beauty stands out—as he should know.”

“Please don’t give him a swelled head; I’m the one who has to listen to him,” Michael said, trying not to laugh before he stepped aside to allow Dean to speak for himself.

“Dude, seriously? You can look like whatever you want, and you choose _that_?”

“Dude, seriously, rub two brain cells together,” Gabriel shot back.

Dean snorted. “Well, excuse me for being surprised. Raphael was hot, and Mike here wanted _me_ , so I thought at least the archangels had good taste. And Anna’s the only one I met who created her body, and she was seriously hot too. What’s up with the plain brown wrapping?”

Gabriel glanced over at Dean though it was plain that he was addressing Michael. “And you wonder why I enjoyed tormenting this one.”

Michael took back control before Dean could blow a raspberry. “Not really, no, though I do think you took it too far... and killing people, Gabriel?” Michael shook his head sadly.

“Are you saying they didn’t deserve it?” Gabriel sniffed before shrugging. “Okay, maybe, but how else was I going to get the Winchesters’ attention?”

“Actually, I was referring to your first meeting with them,” Michael explained. “Though at least you usually picked on people who were less than saintly... and Sam and Dean.”

“They came after me,” Gabriel pointed out.

“You killed Dean how many times?”

“It was to teach Sam a lesson,” Gabriel sniffed.

Michael just looked at him, and Gabriel stared back, finally crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out.

“You really are weird,” Michael laughed.

“I’m sure you say that to all the boys.”

“Only the ones who are. Granted, that seems to be nearly everyone Dean knows,” Michael admitted.

“Hrmm, now there’s something I didn’t know about Dean,” Gabriel mused.

“It can’t surprise you. Hunters don’t often associate with dull, everyday people.”

“I meant that his ‘associates’ were mostly men.”

“Ah, I see. Then no, you haven’t learned anything new. His _associates_ have been women.” Michael chose not to comment on whether it was mostly or entirely so.

“Well damn, there went all my pornographic thoughts of him and Castiel,” Gabriel said mournfully.

Michael’s gaze shot to Gabriel, causing him to slowly grin. “Oh really?”

“What?” Michael asked defensively.

Gabriel smiled and chuckled. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Michael regarded him narrowly. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you aren’t ready to hear the truth?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gabriel eyed him, his body convulsing as he tried not to laugh. “Tell you what, Michael; you figure it out, and I’ll come help when the shit comes down.”

Michael looked away, a faint flush tingeing his cheeks. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I’ll have to see it before I do.”

“I should go check on Sam,” Michael said, starting to sound hunted.

“I thought Castiel was doing that, but go ahead and check up on the renegade soldier,” Gabriel said, waving his hand airily.

“Castiel isn’t a renegade!”

Gabriel’s laughter hung in the air after he vanished, taking the strip club with him.

“I hate having brothers,” Michael sighed before he vanished as well.

***

“Can you keep saying no, Sam?” Michael asked, appearing on the empty bed in Sam’s motel room, Castiel having informed him earlier that day of where Sam was staying.

“No,” Sam growled, “the minute you leave, I’m going to run right out and find a demon to tell Lucifer where I am so I can finish ending the world.”

“It was a simple question,” Michael said. “And an important one, since I presume you will want to help in the final battle, which means you’ll be very close to him.”

“What? You aren’t locking me up in Bobby’s panic room so I don’t get confused and say yes when I mean no?”

Michael gave him a look. “No, but I may knock you out because you’re getting on my last nerve. Dean is your brother, so he had to put up with the whining and woe-is-me attitude every time you pulled it out. I don’t.”

Sam started to say something, then glowered.

Michael raised an enquiring eyebrow, his expression just daring Sam to whine at him.

“I thought Cas told you to stop going all holier-than-thou on me,” Sam finally snapped back.

“You appear to have missed the fact that I’m Castiel’s superior, not vice versa. And I _am_ holier than thou,” Michael retorted. “Archangel.” He pointed to himself. “Abomination.” He pointed to Sam. “Though I think Cas was a bit harsh in that. Azazel’s blood is mostly responsible for that; otherwise you could have been my sword as easily as Dean. Though I think he and I get along better.”

“Yeah, you’re both dicks when you get all superior,” Sam muttered.

“Are _all_ little brothers pouty?” Michael wondered.

“No, we’re probably just tired of dealing with know-it-all big brothers and fathers who couldn’t give a damn about anything!”

“No wonder Lucifer wants you.”

Sam’s complexion turned ruddy. “And you sat up there doing nothing about any of this until he got out; what does that make you?”

“Aware of more of the background and consequences than you.”

“Too chickenshit to step up and do something outside of what you think God wants you to do,” Sam shot back.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m currently fighting against the Hosts of Heaven. Doing what’s _right_ , not what everyone believes He wants,” Michael snapped.

“Then why didn’t you do that earlier!”

“Because it wasn’t time! Moving too early would have made matters worse.”

“Worse than things are now?” Sam asked snidely. “Good job, Michael.”

“Is the world devoid of human life? No? Then yes, it could have been _much_ worse to act too soon,” Michael snarled, the rustle of wings becoming audible as his fists clenched at his sides just before he swung at Sam, the human taking an involuntary step back just before Castiel appeared between them so that it was his face Michael’s fist impacted against.

“Castiel! What?” Surprised out of his anger, Michael stared at his fellow angel.

The other angel was silent, waiting until his shattered jaw reknit before answering. “I could ask you the same.”

Sam cleared his throat and peered around from Castiel’s back. “I may have provoked him.”

Michael gave him a wry look but forbore to comment. “Are you all right?” he asked Castiel.

“I’m better than Sam would be had he been the one who was punched,” the other angel observed.

“Yes, well, he’s right about being provoking. But I didn’t want to punch you.”

“You wanted to punch Sam, something that would have badly injured him,” Castiel pointed out.

“It would have made me feel better... and then Dean would have yelled, and I would have healed him. But it’s probably best that didn’t happen, so thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks, Cas,” Sam echoed. “So... why don’t you two go catch up or something. I’ll be right here, still saying no.”

Michael shrugged. “Castiel, care to join me in a beer?”

“A beer?” Castiel asked before glancing at Sam and nodding. “Of course. We will give you some privacy, Sam.”

An instant later Michael had transported Castiel and himself to the motel room he was using as a base. “I have discovered a fondness for beer that I blame entirely on Dean. Would you like one?”

“I am attempting to curtail my drinking; I have been told it was getting excessive, so a soft drink or water will be fine.” As he spoke, Castiel sat on the edge of one of the twin beds, watching Michael.

Michael chuckled. “I’m not sure an angel _can_ become an alcoholic, but I can see where there might have been concern.” He handed Castiel a Coke and sat down on the other bed with a beer, taking a long swallow.

“Did you find Gabriel?” Castiel asked, looking down at his own drink but not opening it yet.

“Yes,” Michael replied slowly, “but he wants something before he’s willing to help.”

“That is more helpful than he was with Dean and Sam. What does he want?”

Michael shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “Something that I don’t know if I can give him.”

“He wishes for something material?”

“No, something that involves more than just me.”

Castiel pondered that statement, staring down at the red can in his hands and the droplets of condensation rolling down its sides. “Is there anything that I can do to assist you?” he finally asked.

Michael flushed and stared at his hands. “You really should find out what’s involved before making offers like that.”

“I did not say that I would perform the task,” Castiel pointed out, “I only asked if there was anything I could do to assist in it.”

“I’m fairly sure you’re not going to want anything to do with it,” Michael said in a strangled tone.

“You would be surprised at the things I have done.”

Michael suddenly leaned across the few inches separating them and pressed a brief kiss to Castiel’s lips, the other angel frowning slightly but not pulling away.

“Gabriel... wished for you to kiss someone before he would offer his assistance?”

Michael laughed with what in a human would have sounded like a tinge of hysteria. “No, he wanted me to tell him who it was who had me thinking of emotions and physical pleasures, but I felt he was not the one who should know first.”

Castiel stared at him, unblinking, for a long moment. “What does Dean say about this?”

“Dean is too busy laughing hysterically to say anything,” Michael replied, sounding aggrieved, and Castiel’s lips twitched in response.

“I thought that would be the case. I also believe that I would be willing to be part of this.” It was plain Castiel was choosing his words carefully.

Michael’s eyes shot up to meet Castiel’s in surprise. “You would?”

“I would,” Castiel nodded. “And not to obtain Gabriel’s assistance. You are...” he paused, “different than I imagined, than any in the garrison believed.”

“I’m pleased to surprise you.” Michael smiled briefly. “It suited my plans to allow everyone to believe me other than I am.”

“I wasn’t different than everyone believed, though I am now.” Castiel smiled wryly. “Though perhaps I am as they believe.”

“They have no idea what you are, Castiel. They cannot imagine it, but I can.” Michael smiled.

“It is good that one of us has imagination.”

“You have imagination as well, imagination to see the consequences of actions, the difference between what is ordered and what is right. Imagination is a good thing to have.”

“Especially in this situation.” The words were barely out of Castiel’s lips before it was his turn to instigate a kiss, one that Michael leaned into, allowing them to deepen their exploration of one another.

When they finally pulled apart, Castiel was breathing heavily, and he swallowed before laughing. “I don’t think that Dean would like it if this went any further.”

Chuckling as well, Michael nodded. “Be glad you can’t hear his commentary. Once this is all over, I’ll speak to Gabriel about how he created a body for himself.”

“His body is not a vessel?” Castiel asked curiously.

Michael shook his head. “No, it is one he created, one that is capable of containing an archangel, though not in quite the same way as a vessel or I would not have needed Dean.”

“It was understood among us that Gabriel was the most creative of the archangels; I do wonder if cruelty goes hand in hand with creativity though.”

“Gabriel... has some issues,” Michael admitted. “He is far from purely good, but angels never were meant to be purely good, no matter what some would have us believe. And Gabriel would be of great benefit to our side in the coming battle.”

“Perhaps if that attitude had been passed down, some of this might have been averted,” Castiel pointed out mildly.

“It was the original message,” Michael replied sadly. “But it was lost or twisted or simply forgotten over the eons until people and angels believe something entirely different. That is one of the dangers of free will; what we choose to believe isn’t always what is.”

Castiel sighed at that. “Those in the garrison do not have free will.”

“Not in the same way as humans perhaps, or at least not originally, but do you really think that you don’t have free will, that Uriel didn’t, that Anafiel didn’t? Angels sometimes take much longer to realize that they can choose, but they do have the ability.”

“True,” Castiel nodded, “I have chosen, and I will stand by my choice no matter the outcome.”

“I am hopeful of a positive outcome. And I believe we both have much to look forward to.”

“Though I shudder to think of what Gabriel will ask for in return for giving you lessons in forming your own body.”

Michael sighed. “So do I, but there are limits to the price that I will be willing to pay.”

“Sadly, a wise choice considering what he may ask,” Castiel nodded before giving a wry smile. “We do not want to give Dean a heart attack.”

“He agrees,” Michael laughed. “I think he should broaden his horizons.”

“Perhaps he will, though not with me.”

“Good God, no!” Michael exclaimed. “I am finding love confusing enough; I refuse to contemplate a threesome involving Dean Winchester!”

“Of course he would know more than either of us.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out on our own,” Michael said hastily, choosing not to pass on any of Dean’s comments just then.

“I meant in general,” Castiel said dryly.

“Please don’t encourage him!”

“I will do my best not to.”

“I would appreciate it. Pornography in my head is very distracting.”

Castiel gave a choked laugh. “Ahh, I believed he was complaining, not offering advice.”

“He started with complaints but then decided we quote ‘need all the help we can get,’ ” Michael sighed.

“I’m sure he considers it a selfless act.”

“Actually, I think he finds it entertaining.”

“That would be more in character for him.”

Michael nodded. “However, he does consider you a friend. I think he would help you regardless.”

“Be that as it may, I believe that we can figure these issues out ourselves.”

“I agree. People have been managing for millennia; surely we can do the same.”

“And once Lucifer has been stopped, we will.”

“All the more reason to defeat him.”

“I don’t think that sex is quite the motivation we should be using here.”

Michael laughed suddenly. “Dean wants to know what better reason you can think of.”

“Saving the world?”

“What for if not for sex, oh fine, and love? That was Dean, of course.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“He is hard to counterfeit,” Michael said wryly.

“Dean is, indeed, unique, which is fortunate for all of us.”

“He is sputtering, but I agree.”

Castiel chuckled.

***

“I believe you have to help fight Lucifer now,” Michael said by way of greeting as he arrived next to Gabriel.

“And why is that?” Gabriel asked.

“Castiel and I have... spoken, and we will see how matters progress between us, after the battle.”

Gabriel made a face and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You make it sound so clinical, Mikey. Emotions aren’t clinical; they’re messy, and that’s half the fun of them.”

“Yes, well, they’re my emotions, and I don’t have to share them with you. You wanted to know when I figured out what I was feeling and for whom, and I have, and I’ve told you. Are you going to fulfill your part of the bargain?”

“Sure, why the hell not.” Gabriel snickered. “Get it? Why the _Hell_...”

Michael sighed. “I think you’re even worse than Dean, though it’s hard to tell.”

“I’ve had more practice,” Gabriel pointed out.

“And he has a natural talent,” Michael replied wryly.

“At many things or so I’ve been told.”

“None of which I want to know about,” Michael said hastily, trying to avoid having Dean list them.

“Wimp,” Gabriel laughed, before continuing. “So, been to talk to Rafe yet?”

“No, he’ll be my next stop. I’m hoping obedience will be enough to make him follow me.”

“Just don’t tell him about Castiel, or he may start a rebellion of his own.”

“Er, no, I don’t think we need to bother him with that information,” Michael agreed, looking appalled as he imagined Raphael’s reaction.

“Rafe’s actually more like Lucifer than you, no matter what he thinks; he wants things his way.”

“He just comforts himself by believing that his way is God’s way,” Michael said, pacing around the horribly decorated room. “Talking to him is much like beating my head against a brick wall, only far more painful.”

In answer, Gabriel created a pillow and threw it at him. “Take this.”

Michael caught the pillow automatically and then stared at it. “I’m not planning to literally beat my head against a wall, you know.”

“Just protecting the general,” Gabriel chuckled. “Wouldn’t want Rafe to bore you to death.”

“If it were possible, I might be tempted to use it to smother him.”

“Feel free to try.”

“You really aren’t fond of any of your brothers, are you?”

“No,” Gabriel answered simply. “Or Dad if you want to know.”

Michael sighed. “You and Dean have a lot in common.”

“Don’t tell him that; he’ll probably give you a headache.”

“He’s conspicuously silent at the moment,” Michael said, trying not to grin.

“He had the fun of being the oldest and the peacekeeper. You may have been the oldest, but you were never the peacekeeper, Mikey; want to guess who that fell to?” Gabriel growled.

“I’ve never considered you especially peaceful, Gabriel.”

“More than you.”

“I have never pretended to be other than a warrior.”

Gabriel opened and closed his hand in a ‘blah blah’ motion, and Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You really are very irritating.”

“Love you too, brother dear,” Gabriel said, blowing him a kiss. “I said I’d help; now go bother Rafe. You’re moving back to boring.”

Michael sighed and then simply vanished only to reappear in Heaven.

“Hello, Raphael.”

“Michael. I am pleased to see that your vessel finally saw reason and accepted his role.”

“I’m not sure Dean would put it quite that way, but yes, he agreed to assist me in the coming battle.”

“Assist? Of what assistance could he be other than providing you a corporeal form?” Raphael scoffed.

“That’s fairly significant assistance in itself. But he also has battled angels and sometimes provides a unique perspective.”

“He is human.”

“Yes. That is not a bad thing to be, brother.”

“For them, not for us.”

Michael shook his head. “You could learn much from them, Raphael.”

“I thought you were here to speak of Lucifer, Michael,” Raphael said flatly.

“I wish to know if you will fight at my side in the coming battle, brother. Gabriel has already agreed to join me.”

“Of course I will join you in the battle, though I do not know what help Gabriel will be; he is a coward and has been corrupted by his life on Earth.”

“He knows what needs to be saved,” Michael replied bluntly. “And do not forget, brother, he is still an archangel with all the power that goes with it.”

“He is barely better than Lucifer, though since he has agreed to fight with us, I will not kill him.”

“No, you most certainly will not!”

“You protect him? He who fled from Heaven?”

“He is still our brother.”

“He is derelict in his duty.” Raphael’s hard gaze flicked away at that as if there was more that he wanted to say but would not. “But he will be useful in the battle to come.”

Michael regarded him curiously. “Do you ever care about anything?”

“I care about righting the wrong that was done millennia ago,” Raphael stated calmly.

Michael shook his head, sighing. “You are very like him, Raphael. Be wary of becoming too rigid.”

“I am doing what we were created to do,” Raphael replied.

“No, you really aren’t. We were meant to grow and learn, to evolve. We’re not very good at it, which is why He created humans, but He intended us to, and we _can_.”

Raphael stared at Michael for a long moment before nodding. “As you say.”

Michael regarded him wryly, finding the statement a less than ringing endorsement, but time alone would tell if he could convince Raphael to change. “We should talk to Gabriel, decide our strategy.”

“I take it that we will go to him?”

“Since I doubt that anything short of God Himself could drag Gabriel back to Heaven, that would be easier.”

“I’m sure he will be somewhere sordid,” Raphael sighed before vanishing.

“Perhaps it’ll help you loosen up,” Michael muttered in the instant before he followed, joining his brothers.

“For this we left Heaven?” Raphael demanded, looking around in disgust at what appeared to be a honky-tonk bar, complete with sawdust on the floor.

“Loosen up and have a beer, Rafe,” Gabriel called, toasting the other archangels with a beer before matching bottles appeared on the long, polished bar in front of them. “In fact, you may want to have a case.”

“At least it’s not cheap beer,” Michael observed, dropping into one of the comfortable chairs and taking one of the bottles. “Sit down, Raphael. You really do need to learn to relax.”

“To what end?”

“So you don’t give your vessel grey hair,” Gabriel chuckled.

Raphael sneered. “That makes no difference.”

“Aw, come on, you don’t want to look millennia old before your time, do you?”

“It’s a vessel, Gabriel; it’s of no import.”

Michael sighed. “You are aware that’s an actual person, aren’t you?”

“That has a greater purpose,” Raphael pointed out, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Rafe, you really should go help Lucifer; I’m sure the two of you would have a hell of a lot in common.”

Michael concentrated on his beer to avoid having to agree with Gabriel. More and more, the angels were coming to resemble the Fallen they fought, only cloaking their pride and anger in a pretence of obedience.

“Of us all, you are the one who most resembles a demon,” Raphael snapped, the faint sound of feathers rustling growing louder.

Gabriel looked over at Michael at that, blatantly ignoring Raphael. “And you wondered why I left home,” he commented.

“Not really, I just thought it was worth fighting against it rather than running away from it.”

“And I thought different.”

“Which says exactly what you are.” Raphael’s voice had grown deeper, and the rustling grew louder.

“We already know our positions on this matter,” Michael interrupted. “It serves no purpose to rehash the argument. We must set aside our differences in order to defeat our common enemy.”

“Ooo rah,” Gabriel said, toasting Michael with his bottle of beer while Raphael watched them both narrowly.

“Agreed,” he finally said. “We must bring our strength to bear against Lucifer.”

“And surely three archangels will be able to defeat one this time,” Michael said, toying with his beer bottle. “We cannot afford to fail again.”

“We didn’t fail last time!” Raphael protested. “Lucifer was cast down when we defeated him.”

“And gee, he’s back again, sounds like failure to me.”

“The Winchesters released him from his prison.”

“Thanks to you, Zachariah, Uriel and all the others who followed you,” Michael snapped. “Do not attempt to lay the blame elsewhere, brother. You _wanted_ this.”

Raphael smiled thinly.

“Ahh, family, gotta love it,” Gabriel snickered, downing the rest of his beer. “So, why don’t we just invite Lucifer for a barbecue and really get into it?”

Michael winced, and Raphael eyed him oddly.

“Are you well?”

“Dean didn’t really care for Gabriel’s suggestion.”

“I didn’t mean wearing a Sam suit,” Gabriel pointed out.

“He has some issues with Lucifer in any form,” Michael replied dryly.

“You allow the vessel to speak?” Raphael exclaimed, looking horrified.

“He’s more interesting to listen to than you, you pompous prick.” Gabriel created a new beer and chugged it as he spoke.

“I find the voice as grating as yours.”

“Be silent!” Michael thundered, losing patience. “I have listened to this for ages, and it never changes. If you have nothing new to say, shut up and drink your beer!”

Raphael immediately fell silent, and even Gabriel looked impressed—for a moment. “So,” he finally said, “when and where?”

“It will be very soon now,” Michael replied. “Only days now, and as for where, that I’m not sure.” He frowned slightly. “It might be worth visiting the prophet.”

Gabriel studied his beer bottle before speaking. “Isn’t that cheating?”

“Chuck has been telling Dean and Sam what he sees for over a year,” Michael pointed out. “It’s no different. And if the prophets were not meant to help our side, archangels would not watch over them.”

He glanced at Raphael. “I didn’t mean for you to be silent for the rest of eternity.”

“I did not believe you wished for me to speak,” Raphael answered coolly.

Gabriel opened his mouth, glanced over at Michael, and obviously changed what he had been about to say. “I wasn’t complaining about the cheating, just commenting.”

“I would think that would recommend the plan to you,” Raphael stated, making Michael sigh.

“I have a headache.”

A large bottle of extra-strength Excedrin appeared on the bar in front of him, and Michael gave Gabriel a wry look. “Thanks.”

“You are too much influenced by the vessel, brother,” Raphael said, watching Michael in disbelief.

“I gain far more than I lose.”

“That is a case where we disagree, but believe as you will.”

Michael managed to restrain his impulse to thank Raphael for the permission. “So we are agreed? We will visit the prophet?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, off to see the prophet,” Gabriel said before vanishing, taking the bar with him, and Raphael disappeared almost immediately on his heels.

“Should we follow the yellow brick road?” Michael shook his head and vanished as well, reappearing in Chuck’s living room, where the writer was gaping at the archangels.

“Oh man, there’s not enough bourbon in the world for this!”

Gabriel promptly handed him a bottle. “Better?”

“We have questions for you,” Raphael intoned, staring at his charge.

“I’d hang on to the bottle if I were you,” Michael warned dryly, and Chuck whimpered.

“Where is Lucifer?”

“Yeah, Rafe, just ease into it,” Gabriel snorted.

Michael stared at his brother. “Do you ever get any useful information?” he asked, sounding bemused.

“Where is Lucifer?” Chuck squeaked, grabbing for the bottle of bourbon.

“I asked in order to receive an answer, not to hear it repeated,” Raphael said coldly.

Watching him, Michael sighed and sank down onto Chuck’s sofa. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

“I-I don’t know,” Chuck stuttered. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Lucky guy,” Gabriel chuckled.

“Chuck, breathe,” Michael advised. “You have my word that you are in no danger.”

“But I don’t see him!” Chuck protested. “Not now. Later, yeah, I see battles and all the shi—stuff that comes down, but I don’t see him _now_.”

“That’s what I want to know,” Michael interrupted Raphael, who was opening his mouth to interrogate Chuck again. “Tell about the battle, what you see. Where is it? Can you see anything that gives an indication of location?”

“Drink first, then tell,” Gabriel suggested, and Chuck did just that.

“It looks like a barren, bare rock escarpment.”

“Humans have destroyed much of the world,” Raphael growled. “That does not help.”

“Do you see any other details, Chuck?” Michael urged.

“Mountains,” Chuck groaned, rubbing his head. “Not big ones, but they’re jagged.”

“Are we supposed to go from mountain to mountain until we find one that looks familiar?” Raphael groused. “This is absurd; I told you humans are useless.”

“You’re not helping,” Michael snapped. “Think, Chuck, anything else? Some kind of landmark that we can look for?”

“An... Indian? A stone one?”

Michael straightened in his seat. “A head only?”

“Yes?” Chuck said weakly.

Gabriel groaned. “South Dakota? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Michael couldn’t prevent a snicker. “I’m sure you and Bubba will become very good friends.”

“You know this place?” Raphael demanded of his brothers.

“It’s rather well known in this country,” Michael replied. “The Crazy Horse Memorial in  
South Dakota.”

“I will begin to gather our forces,” Raphael said firmly.

“You do that,” Michael said, but he was talking to the air as Raphael had already vanished. “I hope this ends quickly,” he muttered.

“So should I bring the party favors?” Gabriel asked while Chuck groaned.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Michael said, eyeing him warily.

“You know, balloons, confetti, that type of thing,” Gabriel continued.

“That ought to add an inappropriately festive air to the apocalypse.” Michael shook his head. “You really are odd.”

“Can you both go, please?” Chuck begged, looking around nervously.

“You do realize you’re safer when we’re here, right?” Michael pointed out. “Though we do have things to do.” He got to his feet, the empty bottle of beer vanishing.

“Good luck,” Chuck said hesitantly though he was still clutching his bourbon.

“We’ll need it,” Gabriel muttered before he vanished.

***

Michael appeared next to Castiel in an otherwise empty motel room. “Is Sam nearby?”

“He is getting food; he said that he could not stay inside any longer.” Castiel caught sight of Michael’s expression and frowned. “What has happened?”

“Chuck was able to give us landmarks from a vision; we know where the final battle will be.” Michael sank down to sit on the end of a bed, looking up at Castiel. “Have the demons been trying to get at Sam?”

“More so than usual,” Castiel nodded. “We have found it safer to keep moving him—though in doing so, are we positioning him where Lucifer might find him?”

“That’s my fear as well, but we can’t have him simply sit and wait for them. We need to convince him to go to Bobby’s panic room.”

Castiel sighed. “He will fight that suggestion; he wants to be able to help Dean.”

“I can understand that, but he can best help by depriving Lucifer of his strongest weapon.”

“I understand that, as does Sam, but both he and Dean are not known for choosing the most logical path.”

“I’ve noticed,” Michael replied dryly. “But we have to try.”

“I’m not arguing that fact,” Castiel replied with a sigh. “It would be safer for everyone if Sam stayed at Bobby’s.”

“Then it is up to us to make him understand that.”

“It will not be easy as he feels he is being shunted aside in all that is going on.”

“The world is not going to be destroyed to salve Sam Winchester’s pride!”

Castiel sighed. “I didn’t suggest that you allow that to happen, I simply... understand how Sam feels in this matter.”

Michael reached out, grasping Castiel’s upper arm, unconsciously choosing the same spot where his vessel bore the mark of Castiel’s hand. “You will not be left out when it comes time for the final battle, Castiel. You have my word on it.”

“No.” Castiel’s expression firmed, and he met Michael’s gaze squarely. “I will not.”

Unable to resist, Michael leaned in and kissed him, Castiel’s mouth remaining firm beneath his for a moment before he sighed and relaxed, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of Michael’s face. Michael released his grip on Castiel’s arm to slide his own around his fellow angel, drawing Castiel flush against him. He deepened the kiss, eager to taste more of Castiel.

“Argh!” The howl was the first intimation the angels had that Sam had returned.

“Sam,” Castiel said levelly, turning to look at the horrified man.

“Is that Dean you’re kissing or Michael—and why are you kissing either of them?” Sam demanded.

“I’m Michael,” the angel replied, not releasing his hold on Castiel, “and I assume because he enjoys it as much as I do.”

“Dean—apparently—does not object,” Castiel added.

“That’s—oh that’s just too much to think about,” Sam shuddered.

“So don’t; it doesn’t concern you,” Michael said bluntly. “We have other matters to discuss.”

“You two—three—macking on each other isn’t—” Sam visibly got hold of himself. “Yeah, right, so what’s going on?”

“The time of the final battle is near, and we need you to stay in Bobby’s panic room,” Michael said.

“Now there’s a big surprise.” Sam glowered.

“I know you want to do more and I said that I would try to find a way, but it is essential that the demons don’t get their hands on you,” Michael explained. “The only way to ensure that is the room.”

“So you’re saying I’m a liability,” Sam said tightly.

“No,” Castiel corrected, pulling back from Michael to look at Sam, “he’s saying that we need to protect you from Lucifer.”

“Is your pride really more important to you than defeating him?” Michael asked coolly.

“No,” Sam sighed after a long moment of silence in which he was clearly battling with himself, “I just want to be able to help.”

“You have helped, and you will again,” Michael said, offering what comfort he could. “But you cannot help in this particular battle.”

“What about Bobby?” Sam asked. “What is he going to do, get swatted by the demons when they come trying to get me?”

“I would prefer that he join you in safety, if only for Dean’s sake,” Michael replied, “but there is no pressing need for it. If he wishes to fight, I will not gainsay him. Though the true battle will be between Lucifer and me, the demons will not simply stand idly by.”

“If he chooses to go, I will do my best to guard him,” Castiel promised.

“If?” Sam laughed bitterly. “You don’t know Bobby at all if you think there’s any question.”

“I simply meant that he may choose to stay here and watch over you.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

Michael shook his head. “Don’t assume you know what people feel or will do, Sam.”

“I don’t—I’m not!” Sam protested, before flushing. “Okay, maybe I am; I guess we just need to ask him.”

“Yes,” Michael agreed. “We can do that now while bringing you to the safe room.”

“Go with Michael,” Castiel said gravely. “I will let Bobby know that you are on the way.”

Michael stared at him. “I’m not planning to drive, Castiel!”

“And I’m not leaving the Impala here!” Sam snapped.

“Drive with him, Michael,” Castiel ordered. “He is doing as you wish; you can do that much for him.”

Sam looked from one angel to the other, surprised at Castiel giving orders to an archangel and even more so at said archangel’s seeming acceptance.

“Oh fine, but I expect you to be there when we arrive,” Michael said, trying not to think about the trip ahead.

“And I expect you to both arrive without injury,” Castiel retorted stubbornly. “Physical _or_ emotional.”

Michael gave him a look. “I will if he will,” he said, sounding remarkably like Dean.

“Sam?” Castiel asked, sounding less and less patient by the second.

“Fine, fine, I will too!”

Michael’s expression didn’t indicate much confidence in the outcome, but he managed a sickly smile for Castiel. “We’ll see you there.”

“No fighting,” Castiel ordered a final time before he vanished, the faint rustling of wings fading as Sam looked over at Michael and sighed.

“Well, I guess we’ve been told.”

“Yes, he appears to have promoted himself to general,” Michael replied, unable to prevent a faint smile.

“Well, he’s done a lot more to help save humanity than so—a lot of you guys have,” Sam commented as he started to stuff his belongings in his duffle in preparation for leaving.

“He’s still not an archangel,” Michael pointed out. “Fortunately, Raphael knows he’s under my protection, and Gabriel... is Gabriel,” he finished with a chuckle.

“That’s a polite way of saying it,” Sam snorted as he hefted his bag and grabbed the car keys.

“You might want to remember that he’s still an archangel,” Michael said, consciously keeping his voice even. Not waiting for a reply, he got into the car, sitting back in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I think I got that memo,” Sam snorted after he had stowed his gear. He settled himself in the Impala and started the engine.

“You really don’t care, do you?” Michael asked, regarding Sam with interest.

“What, that he’s an archangel?” Sam asked before snorting. “No, not really. I think I’ve learned that labels don’t mean anything.”

“This particular label isn’t an empty title, though. Aside from God Himself, there is no more powerful force in creation than an archangel.”

“Only problem is the other side has one too.”

“Fortunately, we have three.”

“Yeah, but are you three going to end up arguing amongst yourselves?”

“Gabriel argues with everyone, but in the end he will follow me, and Raphael will obey me.”

“So you’ve got it all planned out,” Sam murmured as he pulled out of the rutted parking lot. “Let’s hope it goes down that easy.”

“Oh, it’s going to be anything but easy,” Michael corrected with a short, harsh bark of laughter. “But when it comes right down to it, I’m Michael.” He shrugged.

“Let’s hope that it doesn’t go through everyone on Earth to get to that point.”

“I won’t let it.”

“You can’t promise that,” Sam pointed out.

“Promise, no, but things usually work out the way I want them to.”

“It must be nice.”

Michael shrugged. “It simply is.”

Sam looked over at him, then shook his head and focused on the road in front of them.

***

“See, Mom, all in one piece,” Michael sang out as he got out of the Impala, grinning at Castiel, who stood on the porch next to Bobby.

“Who’r you callin’ Mom?” Bobby growled. “An’ are you talking about Sam or the car?”

“Well, I _was_ talking to the guy who gave me orders not to damage the merchandise, but now I think it applies to both of you,” Michael replied as he strode forward to pull Castiel into an embrace, whatever Bobby had been about to say lost as his jaw dropped.

“Dean doesn’t mind,” Sam sighed as he headed into the house.

“I missed you even in that short time,” Michael murmured. “You would have been much more pleasant company.”

“I had hoped that traveling together would have gotten you both more comfortable in each other’s company,” Castiel sighed, leaning against Michael and feeling the chill that had settled in his body since leaving Heaven lessen.

“I don’t think that’s ever likely to happen,” Michael replied. “Sam will never be comfortable with any angel after all that’s happened, and I find him... irritating.”

“That’s because he reminds you of someone,” Gabriel commented from where he appeared near the Impala.

Michael glanced over without letting go of Castiel. “Noticed that, did you?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Even Rafe would notice that.”

“Sam is learning from his mistakes,” Castiel offered.

“That puts him ahead of our brother,” Michael sighed.

“I have a flock of angels in my yard,” Bobby muttered, shaking his head before retreating inside.

“It’s called a host,” Gabriel called after him before transferring his attention to Michael and Castiel. “Aww, you two are just too cute!”

Michael sighed. “You’re going to be obnoxious about this, aren’t you?”

“I have not known Gabriel to be otherwise in the times I have met him,” Castiel sighed, turning to look at the other archangel but not moving from Michael’s arms.

“Hey, it livens up the party, and speaking of that, I need to borrow Sam.”

“Much as I’d love to say take him, Dean wants to know why,” Michael said.

“Because I’m working on getting us some help, and he’s the one of them that’s available at the moment.”

“What are you going to need him to do?” Castiel asked, frowning slightly.

“Just talk to some folks, promise.”

“What folks?” Michael asked for Dean.

“Gods from the other pantheons,” Gabriel finally sighed. “He’ll be fine; I’ll keep him safe.”

“Safe should not require resurrection from death,” Michael said.

“And it won’t.”

“Can you assure that?” Castiel asked. “Dean ended up dead around you quite often.”

“It was never real,” Gabriel protested with a huff.

Michael hesitated, seeming to listen to something no one else could hear, and then the green gaze focused on Gabriel again. “We need to trust you some time. But you have to convince him to go with you. No kidnapping.”

“Want me to promise not to ravish him as well?”

“Do you _want_ him to use a sigil to get rid of you?” Michael laughed.

Gabriel shrugged. “Worse ways to travel, besides, I think Dean’s cuter.” That said, he strolled past the other two angels and into the house. “Yoohoo, Sam...”

“Do you believe he was serious?” Castiel asked.

“Heaven help us, yes. I think some of his more obnoxious actions may have been his way of getting Dean’s attention.”

“Should I ask what Dean is saying and at what volume?”

“He’s oddly silent at the moment,” Michael replied, looking amused.

Castiel pondered that statement a moment before shaking his head. “I believe he must be as shocked as I am.”

“Perhaps.” Michael chuckled softly. “But they can sort that out themselves some other time. Right now, we should probably go make sure Sam and Gabriel don’t try to kill each other.”

They had barely turned toward the door when Gabriel came out, Sam in tow. “All right, we’re gone. Try to behave, boys; we’ll be back soon!”

“I don’t think they’re trying to kill each other,” Castiel observed.

“I’d say you’re right.” Looking surprised, Michael watched until Gabriel, Sam and the Impala vanished. “We seem to be alone for the moment,” he observed.

“Yes, I believe that Bobby is hiding.”

“We could take advantage of this rare quiet moment.”

“We may want to go out of sight of the house.”

“Bobby would probably prefer it,” Michael agreed with a chuckle, and a moment later they were standing next to a waterfall, the scent of evergreens and wildflowers filling the air, miniature rainbows glistening in the spray from the tumbling water.

“It is very peaceful here,” Castiel observed, his shoulders straightening as he breathed in the clean scents.

“It is one of my favorite spots,” Michael said, his eyes on Castiel.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“I enjoy it even more in your company.”

“I have not had much chance to simply enjoy the planet while I have been here,” Castiel admitted quietly as he reached back for Michael’s hand.

“There is much beauty still in the world,” Michael said quietly, interlacing his fingers with Castiel’s. “I often spend time here.”

“I believe I understand why, though there is beauty in the developed places as well.”

“Yes, I enjoy those as well, but sometimes, I want to see the world as it was before it belonged to humanity.”

“Do you believe that the world will ever know peace again?”

“I have to, or I would be unable to continue the battle,” Michael replied simply.

Castiel was quiet for a moment, looking back at Michael. “Why did you allow it to come to this?”

Michael looked away for long moments before he met Castiel’s gaze again. “I too had faith, believed that our Father would intercede and put an end to all of this.”

“And if it comes to the fact that He simply does not care what happens any longer?”

“As Joshua told you?” Michael sighed. “Then it will fall to us to protect our frailer mortal brothers.”

“Even from ourselves?” Castiel asked, keeping hold of Michael’s hand as he crouched down to run his other hand over the grass.

“Perhaps especially from us. Humans seem able to deal with their other problems themselves.”

“Which is fortunate for them.”

“Yes, it is. We cannot watch over everyone all the time.”

“Sit with me?” Castiel asked as he shifted to a cross-legged seat on the ground.

“Happily,” Michael agreed, sinking down next to him and sliding an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, Castiel leaning against him with a sigh of contentment.

“Perhaps, when this is over, we can come back here—without Dean.”

“I would like that very much,” Michael agreed. “And I’m sure Dean would prefer not to be an unwilling observer.”

“Or participant.”

“Yes, which is why anything requiring participation will have to wait until this is settled and I am no longer using his body.”

“I’m sure he’ll be very glad of that.”

“He agrees. Emphatically.”

Castiel glanced over at Michael at that and smiled slightly. “I’m sure that Gabriel might agree with that as well.”

“And once again Dean goes silent. I look forward to watching them.”

“It will, no doubt, be highly amusing—something all of us need.” The last was added in a quieter voice.

Michael leaned back until he was lying flat on his back, gazing up into the heavens. “Yes, we do. Fortunately, we’ll have front-row seats.”

“Though there is still the matter of what Gabriel will want to teach you how to make your own body,” Castiel mused as he slowly lay back beside Michael.

Turning his head, Michel made a face. “Let’s try not to think about that. Besides, whatever we imagine, he’ll still come up with something worse.”

“He is quite terrifying in his creativity.”

“Even among archangels, he’s unique,” Michael agreed with a chuckle.

“Insane,” Castiel countered.

“He would probably consider that a compliment.”

“A good point.”

“He finds you interesting, you know.”

“Gabriel? Why?”

“Because you do things no other angel does, defy Heaven and Hell both, and when you realized who he was, rather than fleeing, you faced him down. I don’t think you realize how extraordinary you are.”

Castiel digested those words and shrugged, a gesture he had learned from Dean. “Perhaps we can learn and change.”

“There’s no perhaps about it. Or do you really think you’re still the same as you were before you met Dean?”

“Are you?” Castiel asked in return.

Michael actually considered the question for a time before replying. “Not quite, but I’ve changed less than you, Castiel, thanks to being an archangel. I was already pretty autonomous.”

“No, I’m not the same as I was.”

“I like the being you’ve become.” Michael rolled onto his side and leaned toward Castiel to kiss him, Castiel moving to close the distance between them before he froze, reaching for the sword he no longer bore as an echoing cry rang around them.

“What—” he began wildly.

“Gabriel!” Michael cried, leaping to his feet, in that instant purely his angelic self, his grace surrounding him in a blazing nimbus, his wings casting shadows across the clearing.

“What could have—” Castiel rolled to his feet as well, his expression turned stricken at the realization of just who had killed their brother. “Sam...” he whispered.

Michael paled. “We need to find him, quickly.” But Castiel’s work still hid Sam from angelic sight, preventing Michael from finding him. However, he had other options. He withdrew Dean’s cell phone from his pocket and called Sam, praying as hard as he ever had that there would be an answer and that it wouldn’t be Lucifer.

“Is he—” Sam got out over the sound of the Impala’s engine and a woman cursing in a language other than English.

“Sam.” The name on Michael’s lips was a prayer of thanks, and he could feel Dean’s relief as well. “Where are you? I need to come to you.”

“We’re on the road out of Muncie, Indiana,” Sam said shortly.

An instant later, Michael was in the back seat of the Impala, looking at the back of Sam’s head and into the suspicious dark eyes of a beautiful woman who’d turned to glare at him the moment he appeared.

“What happened?” he demanded, ignoring the woman for the moment.

“Your brother killed a dozen gods, that’s what happened,” the woman snapped. “Shall I list them, or is Gabriel all you care about?”

“Kali, meet Michael; Michael meet Kali,” Sam offered, sounding worn out.

Michael regarded her with disfavor. “Lucifer or his disciplines have killed far more than a dozen angels, far, far more, but today he also did something that has never been done before. He killed an archangel.”

Though Michael’s tone was flat as he made the statement, somehow it also was filled with unbearable anguish.

“So he’s really...” Sam trailed off and glanced up at the rearview mirror to see Michael’s grief twisting Dean’s face.

“Every angel in creation felt his passing.”

“Shit,” Sam murmured as Kali looked out the window, conspicuously silent. “We tried to kill him before, but... he did the right thing in the end. He was trying to save us.”

“He was the Archangel Gabriel.” When Michael pronounced the name, it was imbued with everything that Gabriel had been, all his virtues and failings wrapped up in the few syllables of the words.

“And he’s dead,” Kali said bitterly, “and the world is going to burn because of your family squabbling.” She turned and glared at Michael at that, fire burning in the depths of her dark eyes, then vanished.

“Gabriel knows— _knew_ the most unusual people. Did he tell you what he hoped to accomplish at that gathering?” Between one blink and the next, Michael vanished from the back and reappeared in the seat next to Sam.

“ _They_ were trying to broker some kind of deal with Lucifer, but Gabriel was trying to convince them to work with him to save humanity. I think they were close to agreeing, but then Mercury tipped off Lucifer as to what was going on, and he decided to visit.” Sam paled at the memory of what he had seen and the fact that he had been in the same room with the being who wanted to wear him to what would be the end of the world.

“Is Mercury dead?”

Sam nodded. “Along with Odin, Baldur, Ganesh, Zhao Shen...” He swallowed thickly. “So yeah, back to the safe room for me.”

“I want him to be alive so that I can kill him.”

“Well, you don’t always get what you want, do you,” Sam muttered.

“No, or my brother wouldn’t be dead,” Michael snapped.

“Then kill the being who killed him and get us out of this mess.”

Michael gave him an unfriendly look. “I intend to. But you seem to forget that _he_ is my brother too.”

“Trust me, I don’t ever forget that,” Sam sighed as he stared at the darkened road in front of the car.

“But you still think it will be so easy to kill him?” Michael shook his head. “You should know better. Dean refused even to contemplate killing you.”

Sam cut his eyes to the side to look at Michael and pressed his lips together.

Michael chuckled suddenly. “Only Dean could manage to kick someone from the inside.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I, however, do my kicking from the outside.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Sam muttered.

“Nor does it seem to deter you.”

“I’m used to it.”

Michael stared at him. “Did you just compare me to Dean?”

“Yeah,” Sam stated, lifting his chin slightly, “you two are a lot alike—which shouldn’t be a surprise considering how everyone tells me that I’m just like your brother.”

“Not entirely or I would have killed you a long time ago.”

“Dean too.”

“Dean would cut off his own arm before he would even think of killing you. In case you’ve forgotten, he sold his soul to bring you back to life when you _did_ die.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Sam demanded. “That I don’t think about that every fucking day of my life? He’d do it. If it came down to it, me or the entire fucking world, he’d do it—and if he can’t, you had better not listen to him.”

Michael regarded him wryly. “I can assure you, Sam, that I do not value your life over the fate of all humanity.”

“Yeah, I sort of guessed that.”

“I will, however, try to keep you alive,” Michael offered.

“Since I’ll be locked up at Bobby’s, that probably won’t be an issue; you concentrate on keeping Dean unfried and whole.”

“That’s the plan.”

***

“We’ll check in on you as often as possible,” Michael promised Sam. “And Bobby will be here if you need anything.” He glanced over his shoulder at Castiel as he backed out of the panic room to allow the door to swing shut, this time to be locked from the inside.

“I want to be at the battle, but I wonder if it would be best for me to stay here,” Castiel murmured.

“It is your choice, of course,” Michael replied, “but I would like to have you at my side.”

Castiel sighed before reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose in a supremely human gesture. “I will fight.”

“I will be honored to have your sword at my side.”

“I have no sword,” Castiel reminded him wryly, “but you have my arm.”

A sword appeared in Michael’s hand, and he reversed it over his arm to offer it to Castiel, the angel staring at it, his gaze darting up to Michael’s before he slowly reached out for the blade. When he took it, a shudder ran through him that was released as a soft sigh.

“You have my sword,” he said quietly.

“And now it is back with you, where it belongs.”

“Then we should speak to Bobby then go to the monument.”

***

Looking around at the desolate but beautiful landscape, Michael reached for Castiel’s hand. “This seems a fitting location for a final battle, somehow,” he murmured. “I only hope we don’t destroy it before we’re done.”

“The same could be said for the world,” Castiel pointed out, tightening his fingers around Michael’s before his whole body tensed as he felt the arrival of others of their kind.

“Michael.” Raphael’s tone was dry and inflectionless. “How... native of you.”

Michael regarded him coolly. “I prefer to think of it as knowing what I’m fighting for. And I _will_ know if anyone exceeds their orders,” he added warningly, looking from Raphael to Zachariah, who had arrived with the other archangel.

“Of course we will do as ordered,” Raphael said calmly, his gaze flicking out over the area around them. “That is what we were created to do.”

“No humans will be harmed,” Michael stated firmly to be sure there were no misunderstandings.

“Who cares about the mud monkeys,” Zachariah sneered, making Michael focus a steely gaze on him.

“I do.”

“They are greater than we are,” Castiel added, raising his chin when Raphael turned his steely gaze toward him.

“We will strive to protect the humans.”

“Good. And, Raphael?” Michael waited until he had his brother’s full attention. “Castiel’s commands are as my own.”

Zachariah’s jaw dropped even as his eyes narrowed while Raphael nodded. “As you order, Michael.”

“Good. Remember that.” There was the sound of wings rustling as Michael regarded Zachariah, and his fingers tightened on Castiel’s.

“Be careful, Michael,” Raphael finally said.

“It’s my intention to survive the battle.”

“That was not what I meant,” the other archangel answered.

“I choose to believe that it was.”

Raphael only cocked an eyebrow in response. “I will examine the battlefield,” he commented before vanishing.

“Perhaps you should assist him,” Michael said to Zachariah, leaving him no choice but to follow Raphael.

“I believe I trust Zachariah even less than the demons. At least with them, I know what to expect.”

“Why did you tell them that?” Castiel demanded, pulling his hand free to stare at Michael.

“It was necessary to make it clear to them that you’re important to me. Zachariah is one to hold a grudge.”

“Which is why I am concerned as to how both he and Raphael will react to that.”

“Castiel, they were already looking for ways to be rid of you. Now they know I will not permit it.”

“They have been looking for ways to do that the better part of a year,” Castiel pointed out, “yet I am still here.”

“And I want you to remain here, so I’ve made sure they know what the consequences will be. You have to allow me that much, Castiel.”

“Then you should also remember that if they perceive that your orders are disobedient in and of themselves, you are in as much danger from them as you are from Lucifer.”

“Castiel, I have already made my position plain to Raphael and that I still require his obedience. He isn’t happy that I care about humanity, but he won’t disobey so long as I still have my connection with God’s grace, which I do.”

“I hope that you are correct; if not, I will guard your back.”

“I would trust no one else.”

“That, perhaps, is wise.”

***

“Hey, Sammy, you going batshit in there yet?”

“What the hell?!” Sam exclaimed, backing away from the door. He knew who that voice sounded like, but there was no way. The Trickster—Gabriel—was dead.

“Hey, let’s not be insulting,” the voice replied. “C’mon, open up, and we can stop this crap before it burns up the western third of the US.”

“Yeah, right,” Sam snorted. “You think I’m stupid? The angel you’re impersonating is dead, you stupid demon, and there’s no way I’m opening this door!”

“We don’t have time for this shit.” Not even a second later Gabriel appeared in the safe room and pointed a finger at Sam. “C’mon, time to go.”

Sam gawked at him. “No demon can get in here, but... you’re _dead_!”

Gabriel laughed as he pointed a finger at Sam. “Not so much as you think. That was good, eh? _Everyone_ bought it. Did Kali shed a tear for me?”

“I don’t think she knows how to cry,” Sam replied absently, most of his attention still on staring at Gabriel. “You’re alive?”

“Damn,” Gabriel muttered before shrugging. “Oh well, the important thing is the answer to your question is yes, and we need to go shove Lucifer back in his box to keep Michael from having to skewer him or him from getting lucky and skewering Michael and Dean—and then we’re up shit’s creek.”

“Okay, assuming you are who you say you are, and the evidence does seem to point that way, how the hell do you expect to accomplish that? And I’d really rather not end up with Lucifer shoved in _me_!”

“No thanks, Luci in that poor schlub was bad enough, in you... World in flames, baby. So what we need to do is grab those two rings that you and Dean ganked from War and Famine and combine them with these two babies and boom, the way to shove Lucifer back in his bottle.” Gabriel held up his hand and waggled the fingers with heavy rings on them.

“Huh?”

Gabriel sighed and snapped his fingertip against Sam’s forehead. “Okay, let me explain simply. The Horsemen’s rings are the keys to the trap Lucifer has been stuck in for millennia. If you want him back in it, we need to take the rings to the spot where Lucifer rose and get him back in.”

“You want _me_ to go somewhere that Lucifer’s going to show up? Not that I see how you’re going to accomplish that anyway,” Sam exclaimed. “Did you forget the world in flames part?”

“We need bait. It’s going to take a lot to keep Lucifer from throwing down with Michael; you’ll be enough to do it, especially since Mikey’s in Dean,” Gabriel shrugged.

“That is a really bad plan,” Sam groaned.

“And what’s going on just west of here is good? My odds are on you and Bobby being cinders if it all goes down out there.”

Sam hesitated a moment longer before he nodded abruptly. “I’m probably as crazy as you are, but okay. I’m in.”

Gabriel grinned at that. “I always knew you were the smarter one—but I have to tell you, Sammy, Dean’s hotter.”

“Oh, that is so wrong!”

“What is?”

“You thinking Dean’s hot!”

“Jealous? I said you were smart,” Gabriel offered. “Now come on, let’s get those rings and blow this taco stand.”

“They’re upstairs... where Bobby is.”

“Hrmm, let’s see, Bobby, archangel.” Gabriel smirked. “I think I have it covered.”

“No hurting Bobby!”

“Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine! I wasn’t planning on it! It’s the middle of the night, and gee, Bobby is asleep, okay? Can we go now?”

Sam glared at him. “I really hate you.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ll keep Lucifer out of your pants anyway.” Gabriel grabbed a hold of Sam’s jacket, transferring them to one of the guest bedrooms where a wave of Gabriel’s fingers opened the safe that was built into the wall.

Sam ignored what Gabriel was doing, too busy trying to wipe the idea of Lucifer in his pants from his mind.

“Cat got your tongue?” Gabriel asked, giving up waiting for Sam to get the rings and grabbing them himself as he looked toward the west, his attention fixed on something beyond human comprehension. “Shit, no time, it’s starting.”

“What?” That got Sam’s attention. “Well, what are you waiting for then?”

“Well, not _it_ , Lucifer is just throwing a crapload of demons at them, but it’s close. Can you do this?” For once Gabriel’s expression was serious, and all joking had left his tone.

“I have to,” Sam replied simply. “So let’s go.”

***

“I do not like this,” Castiel murmured in a brief respite from the battle, and he wiped his forearm over his brow to clear his vision. “He wanted the final battle; why does he not arrive to be a part of it?”

Michael looked over his shoulder at the other angel, frowning. “I don’t know. And it’s beginning to concern me.” Before he could say anything more, another wave of demons came at them, Michael’s sword cutting through them as if they were the smoke they dissolved into while Castiel stayed just off to his side and behind him, guarding the archangel’s back even when it was plain that he didn’t need it.

Screams came from one side as tourists who had been visiting the monument suddenly found themselves caught up in the battle. Before any of the demons could possess them, Zachariah’s sword flashed, cutting them down and preventing them from becoming hosts.

Michael was swamped with demons, so it was Castiel who appeared before the other angel, his sword held at the ready. “You condemn me for disobeying in the face of what you just did?” he rasped, driving toward Zachariah in a brutal attack.

“I prevented the other side from gaining additional weapons,” Zachariah snapped. “They are nothing!”

Castiel looked momentarily anguished at Zachariah’s lack of understanding. “They are who we are here to protect and love!”

“They are less than the mud beneath their feet!”

“They are greater than the stars in the heavens!” Castiel punctuated his words with a slash of his sword, the blade clanging against Zachariah’s. “They are change and beautiful for it, and they are better than we are!”

Zachariah sneered at him. “You have been contaminated by too much time among them.”

“Made better for it,” Castiel countered as they circled each other, the area somehow devoid of demons.

“You’re a fool.” Zachariah attacked him, Castiel rolling under the swipe and coming up inside of it, his sword extended to impale the other angel through the chest.

Suddenly all the demons cried out, many of them vanishing and the others falling under the swords of the angels. When the last demon was vanquished, Michael flashed to Castiel’s side, looking shocked.

“He killed them,” Castiel rasped, looking toward the small group of bodies huddled near a camper van. “They were innocent, and he killed them.”

“I often wondered why it was that Zachariah didn’t Fall with Lucifer; he shared his beliefs regarding humanity.” Michael looked around almost dazedly. “Did you feel it?”

“I felt... something.” Castiel looked around at that, noticing that all the demons were gone. “What has happened?”

“Lucifer... is contained,” Michael replied slowly. “I don’t understand what happened.”

“Sam and I saved you from doing what you thought Lucifer had done to me,” Gabriel stated as he and Sam appeared in front of Michael and Castiel, Sam looking pale and shaken by the experience.

“Now I know how the fox feels,” Sam muttered, making Michael whirl on Gabriel, his joy at seeing his brother alive subsumed by his dismay.

“You baited Lucifer with _Sam_?!”

“What was the one thing that was going to get Lucifer where he didn’t want to go?” Gabriel asked in response as Castiel moved to Sam’s side, examining him closely.

“You are uninjured?” he asked, looking up at the young man, his eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken,” Sam admitted. “That was... not fun.” In fact, he was pale and drawn, with an expression in his eyes that said he wasn’t going to sleep soundly for a very long time.

There was a rustling of wings, and Raphael appeared next to them. “What have you done?” he demanded.

“Saved Michael from killing our brother?” Gabriel offered.

“You killed Zachariah!” Raphael snarled, taking a step toward Castiel, his sword arm starting to rise. He was so intent on Castiel that he didn’t seem to notice Gabriel’s seemingly miraculous return from death.

Eyes widening at Raphael’s attack, Castiel raised his sword to block the strike, fully expecting to feel his sword shatter and himself impaled then shocked to find that both he and his sword remained whole.

“ENOUGH.” The single word was spoken by a young red-haired girl who, moments before, had been one of the bodies near the camper.

Sam was left gawking at the girl as all the angels immediately lowered their heads.

“Father,” Michael whispered, surprise and hope mixed together in equal measure in his voice.

Castiel’s lips thinned, and then he raised his head to stare at the girl who housed a part of God’s spirit. “So now You decide to care about what happens?” he asked angrily.

“I have always cared, Castiel, but it was necessary to allow you all to make your own choices, to find your own answers. If I had stepped in, nothing would have changed, but now you all know that you can stand up to the devil himself. And most of you,” She cast a wry glance at Raphael, “have learned to value humanity for what they truly are.”

“And millennia of ignoring everyone was supposed to teach us this?”

“I never ignored what was happening,” God replied sadly. “But yes, it was necessary for you to learn. Think of it as My version of pushing fledglings out of the nest. Sometimes you have to be harsh to do the right thing.”

“So it is fly or die?” Castiel asked, and Raphael stirred behind him, his hand moving toward his sword again while Sam watched it all, wide-eyed.

“Would you have preferred to remain forever as you were, alone and emotionless, aloof, simply a soldier in the garrison?” God countered. “You have grown and learned. Could you really have done that if I had been there holding your hand all the while or stepping in to take over when things got tough?”

Michael moved closer to Castiel, reaching for his hand while keeping a wary eye on Raphael in case he did attack Castiel.

“No,” Castiel answered as he grasped Michael’s hand, “but why the torment for humanity? If Your goal was to teach us, why hurt them?”

“That was not My intention, but some angels have exercised their free will in ways I would have preferred they not explore. But from this, good has come.” Her eyes went to Michael, though She was clearly looking at Dean.

“I doubt Dean would agree,” Michael said almost angrily.

“You’re right,” Sam croaked, causing God to flick Her gaze to him.

“Perhaps Dean should speak for himself in this matter.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes,” She agreed, “but I love you enough to let you make your own decisions.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Gee, that’s great, but maybe I’d prefer to be alive and not tortured.”

“You are.”

“You sonofabitch.”

“Would you have rather Sam died?” She asked curiously.

“I’d _rather_ that he didn’t die, that demons didn’t walk around stealing people’s bodies, that You didn’t let all this weird shit loose in a world where most of the folks don’t have the first clue how to deal with it.”

“So you would rather have a world of sunshine and happiness where no one ever argues or fights?”

“Dean,” Gabriel spoke for the first time since God’s appearance, “don’t bother; you aren’t going to win. He holds all the cards.”

“The house always wins, huh?” Dean shook his head. “You know what, Gabe, I understand you a hell of a lot better now. And I’m sorry for some of the stuff I said.”

“Just some of it, eh?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Gabriel just grinned, though his expression thinned when he looked at God again. “So, what now? We all toddle home like good little boys and girls?”

“Why don’t you decide that for yourselves? Although before you do...” She glanced at Dean, and suddenly a husky man with light brown hair, blue eyes and chiseled features stood next to him. “Ah yes, that seems more like you, Michael.” Before the archangel could respond, She continued, “and now I think it’s time for there to be four archangels again.”

“You saying you’re knocked up, Dad?” Gabriel asked.

“No, I’m saying Michael was more right than he knew when he said that Castiel was no longer a simple soldier.” Her gaze settled on Castiel, focusing intently for a moment.

Michael’s eyes widened, and he whirled to face Castiel, whose expression was a mixture of shock and incomprehension.

“Father, You cannot mean that,” Raphael exclaimed.

“I have been waiting a very long time for one of My children to grow into what an archangel should be,” God said softly. “I would never have chosen his pain, but oh, what he has become.” God’s smile was a benediction, warming even Dean, who wanted to hate Her.

“Cas is an archangel?” Sam whispered, almost to himself.

“I do not feel any different; I am myself.”

“Of course you are,” God said kindly. “You are what I always hoped My children would become.”

Michael looked from Castiel to God and back again. “Cas?”

Castiel swallowed before answering. “Michael?”

A smile curved the thin lips, and then Michael took the single step necessary to put himself directly in front of Castiel, a hand rising to rest on the angel’s—on his fellow _archangel’s_ hip.

“He kills Zachariah, and You _reward_ him?” Raphael demanded, only to fall to his knees as God turned the full force of Her gaze on him.

“I have done nothing; what Castiel has become was of his own doing,” God replied calmly though Her blue eyes were intent. “And we will glory in it.”

“I certainly will,” Michael muttered, proving that something of Dean had rubbed off on him.

Gabriel realized several things at once and snickered. “I’m not the baby any longer—and you just got out of owing me big time, bro,” he told Michael while Castiel slowly raised his hand and rested it on Michael’s hip as well.

“Leave them be, Gabriel,” God said repressively, but Her gaze was fond as it rested on the Trickster archangel. “Someday you may be the one in love and requiring your brothers’ forbearance.”

Gabriel looked pained at that and glanced over at Sam and Dean. “Hey, boys, you want me to give you a ride back to Bobby’s?”

“What about all the people you guys are using?” Dean demanded. “What happens to them?”

“Look around, Dean,” God said gently. “All of my angels have left but the archangels, and of them, only Raphael is in a human host, and I will ensure that the host is unharmed.”

“What of the body you inhabit?” Castiel asked. “And those Zachariah killed here?”

“They will be well and have no memory of what happened here. It would be a poor reward to let them die here.”

“Seems like a lot of people have gotten your ‘poor reward’ this past year,” Dean growled.

“I _am_ sorry for all you’ve lost, Dean,” God replied, regarding him sadly. “But people make their own choices, and sometimes the results are bad, even when they were the right choices. Ellen and Jo don’t regret their choices,” She added softly.

“Easy for you to say,” Dean groused, but he seemed somewhat comforted nonetheless.

“Dean.” Castiel turned from Michael to look at the older Winchester, then smiled slightly, “Never change.”

“I’m not planning on it,” Dean assured him. “Or on ‘finding God,’” he added, complete with finger quotes and a dirty look at Her, God appearing to take no offense from the glare.

“I’ll take good care of the boys while you’re off at archangel school,” Gabriel promised before snickering, “Or whatever it is you and Michael are going to be doing.”

“Somehow you’re not quite what I picture when I think of a guardian angel,” Dean laughed.

“Would you rather have a cherub?” Gabriel asked archly even as Castiel turned back to study God again while She returned the gaze calmly, patiently waiting for whatever he wanted to say.

Dean eyed him oddly. “You’d look pretty weird in a diaper, Gabe.”

“You’ve seen a cherub; no diaper.”

“What are you going to do now?” Castiel finally asked of God. “Anything?”

“Don’t remind me!” Dean said with a shudder before Castiel’s question caught his attention, and he fell silent.

“I think I’m going to explore this world. Much has changed over the millennia, and I’d like to get to know humanity again.”

“Then what have You been doing for the past millennia? Sleeping?” Gabriel’s smothered laugh was as much for the question as for the fact that Castiel sounded very much like Dean as he asked it.

God laughed softly. “The angels and humanity here are My children, but you are not My _only_ children. There are worlds without end in the universe.”

That seemed to surprise all those in attendance to silence, and Castiel finally looked away from God, meeting Michael’s eyes as he tightened his hand around the other angel’s.

“Live well,” She said an instant before the girl’s body crumpled to the ground in a dead faint, no longer housing Her spirit.

There was a moment of utter silence, and then Dean said, “I think that’s our cue to get the hell out of Dodge.”

Raphael had already vanished, and Gabriel glanced to where the group of formerly dead humans was slowly beginning to stir. “I’ve got the Winchesters; have fun, bros,” he called, catching Sam and Dean by their collars and vanishing with them.

“I am not ready to return to Heaven,” Castiel said quietly, his gaze still on Michael’s.

“I’m not sure I ever will be,” Michael replied with equal softness. “I’d like to have some time with just the two of us.”

“Perhaps we should go to that place we visited before?”

“You have very good ideas,” Michael approved. A moment later they were standing in the beautiful glade, the heavy, sweet scent of wildflowers filling the air.

Castiel took a deep breath, clearly savoring the scents, freeing his hand from Michael’s to run it up Michael’s arm. “I am beginning to believe that I don’t ever want to understand how our Father’s mind works.”

Surprised into a laugh, Michael slid his other arm around Castiel’s waist. “I think that’s probably best.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Do you mind... this?”

Castiel’s brows drew together as his forehead furrowed. “This?”

“This body. I had meant to ask you what you preferred before I chose a form.”

Castiel’s frown slowly smoothed away, and he stepped back as much as possible so that he could study Michael’s new features seriously. “It would be your body, the preference should have been yours, though this appearance is pleasing—and I no longer have to ignore the fact that you look like Dean.”

Michael smiled slowly, the rugged features warming. “I think Dean is relieved that you didn’t completely ignore the fact.”

“It was his body, and he is my friend; I would not have trespassed beyond what he allowed, and I’m sure that he would have let you know when that happened.” Castiel rubbed his thumb over the inside of Michael’s arm as he spoke.

“I’m sure he would have, but fortunately, he is gone now, and there is no trespass. What we do now is entirely between us and for us.”

“I’m glad of that,” Castiel rasped before leaning up and in to slant his lips against Michael’s, his kiss tasting of desire and relief that they had all survived.

Michael’s arms tightened almost convulsively, and he deepened the kiss, feeling Castiel’s body in his arms and his grace in his very being.

“So good,” Castiel whispered against his lips, his hands roaming over Michael’s broad back, feeling the muscles flex beneath his hands and the warm sensation as their graces twined together, drawing them even closer together.

“I find joy in you,” Michael murmured, the rustle of wings filling the air.

“And I in you.” Castiel raised a hand to cup the side of Michael’s face, feeling the smooth slide of his cheek beneath his palm.

“It’s hard to believe that I’m touching you with my own hands,” Michael marveled, mirroring Castiel’s movement so that his hand rested against the slightly bristly curve of the newest archangel’s cheek. “I have wanted this so much.”

“We have it; we have each other.” The hand on Michael’s face slid lower, down his neck to rest at the open collar of the black button-down shirt he was wearing.

“With my body, I thee worship,” Michael whispered, the vow no less fervent for its softness. Again, he copied Castiel’s move, his fingers going to the loose tie and quickly removing it, then sliding each button through its hole to bare the warm flesh beneath inch by inch.

The breath caught in Castiel’s throat, and his fingers slipped, skittering down Michael’s chest, the buttons somehow coming undone without his touching them.

“Castiel.” The name embodied all that he was and all that he would ever be, filling an aching void inside Michael that he hadn’t been aware of until it was soothed. The last of the buttons on Castiel’s shirt slid free, and Michael slipped his hands beneath the crisp cotton to push the garment from Castiel’s shoulders, his fingertips gliding the full length of the angel’s arms as they dragged the fabric down.

The moan that emerged from Castiel’s lips was rough and encompassed a need that was more than purely physical. He clenched his hands in Michael’s shirt, and suddenly it vanished, leaving Michael bare from the waist up, the expanse of his flesh open to Castiel’s touch.

“Yours are the first hands ever to touch me,” Michael said softly, his own slowly exploring Castiel, learning him by touch as well as sight.

“In this body?” Castiel asked, arching into Michael’s touch while he traced the bumps and ridges of the muscles and bones beneath his flesh.

“Yes. And you are the only one ever to truly touch _me_ as well,” Michael responded, shivering with pleasure at Castiel’s touch.

Castiel’s essence flared at that moment, merging further with Michael’s and leaving them both gasping. “I am glad,” he rasped. “I have never felt like this before, so close, so full, as if I cannot contain myself.”

“Then don’t.” With no one to see or be harmed by his manifestation, Michael allowed more of his true self to escape the bonds of flesh, his grace spilling through Castiel, blending them for brief but eternal moments into a single being. But flesh had its pleasures too, and Michael held to it, his wings almost visible as they flared and arched overhead. Their remaining clothing vanished in an instant, and their nude forms entwined, fitting together as if made for one another.

The trees and bushes around them rustled as if brushed by unseen forces, and Castiel hooked a leg around Michael’s thigh, his breath rushing out over Michael’s throat as they rocked together, keeping their balance with inhuman grace, the small moves rubbing the length of their bodies together.

They grew bright enough that the surrounding brush cast shadows outward, more of their graces escaping their vessels as they merged ever more completely, their spirits mirroring the growing closeness of their bodies. Michael’s hands continued to explore Castiel’s form, mapping every inch of him with fingertips sensitized to the warmth of Castiel’s flesh.

“I—” Castiel began before he gasped, his head tipping back to loose his cry to the heavens as pleasure exploded through him, searing his nerves and exploding through his essence, magnifying and multiplying his reaction as it rebounded through Michael and outward to all who could sense it.

Michael shuddered under the welcome assault of Castiel’s joy, and his own reached its peak only an instant later, merging with and amplifying Castiel’s as their sensations flowed between them.

They leaned against each other, their graces slowly separating even as they recovered their sense of self. The small noises of the forest reappeared around them as the animals, birds and insects slowly returned to the glade, and Castiel smiled against Michael’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad we’re not human and we can do that again whenever we want,” Michael said, sounding incredibly smug and totally content at the same time.

Castiel chuckled quietly at that as he stroked his hands over Michael’s back. “Though I would suggest we keep our grace inside if we are anywhere near humans.”

Michael laughed as well, his own hands cupping Castiel’s buttocks to hold him close. “Yes, it would be somewhat disturbing to obliterate some unsuspecting passerby, a mood-killer as Dean would say.”

“It did feel good to... stretch though,” Castiel murmured. “Humanity fascinates me, but at times it feels confining.”

“Angels were never meant to spend all their time in human form. There is much to marvel at in humanity, but a physical body truly does limit us,” Michael agreed. “Fortunately, we can enjoy the best of both.”

“True.” Castiel’s thin lips curved in a slow smile. “And we shall.”

END


End file.
